


How Can I resist You?

by solversonlou



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Background Ben Mitchell/Callum "Halfway" Highway, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solversonlou/pseuds/solversonlou
Summary: Ben is spiraling after 'killing' Keanu. Tubbs is there to help. Complicated feelings ensue.
Relationships: Ben Mitchell/Charlie "Tubbs" Savage, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	How Can I resist You?

He doesn't really know why he's round there. Ben is supposed to be out of the game, after all. But Tubbs had gotten a text at two in the morning, bleary in the dark of his flat, and he'd ignored it initially, but then he'd gotten another, and another, and then three missed calls.

Ben was obviously drunk, words slurred, and Tubbs had sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he listened to Ben ramble on about something he could barely make out. 

His eyes snap open when he hears the word 'Martin', and a flood of dread waves through him, "Martin? What has he said?"

Ben exhales, and it sounds like he's been crying. Tubbs doesn't get much out of him after that, but he tells him that he's on his way over, and to meet him outside The Vic.

\- - -

It's just after three am when Tubbs gets there, and Ben is barely able to stand up. 

"State of ya," Tubbs shakes his head, grabs hold of Ben by his jacket and hauls him into the alley. It's not aggressive, but it isn't soft either as he crowds him, holds Ben's face with one hand to get him to look at him. "What's Martin said? Has he been running his mouth off?"

Ben's brows draw together, confused as he looks up at Tubbs. It clicks after a second, and he starts to laugh, shoulders slumping against the brick wall, "Oh, mate, no it ain't about your hit and run."

Tubbs's stance relaxes, shoulders dropping as he steps back, relief flooding through him, "You know about it then?"

"Yeah," Ben says, waving a dismissive hand. "That ain't why I called ya."

"Then why?" Tubbs asks, frowning.

Ben swallows, suddenly looking small, vulnerable, like the scared kid Tubbs saw on the first day of being inside all them years back. Only this Ben is older, more rough around the edges, stubbled and not speccy and afraid.

Tubbs exhales, relaxing his demeanor a little. He doesn't want Ben to feel like he has something against him. Even though he sort of does with the whole dating a copper thing.

"Keanu Taylor," Ben breathes out, voice shaky. He glances down at Tubbs's boots, avoiding his eye. "I... it's a mess, Tubbs. I screwed up big time."

\- - -

"Didn't think he had it in him," Tubbs says, placing another Quality Street in his mouth. It's just after four am and he's starving. 

Ben's sobered up a little now, drinking tea on the bed in his old bedroom. Or is it his current bedroom? He supposes so now that he's left Ian's. 

Tubbs tilts his head, looks towards Ben, "I mean, I get you knocking someone off, but Martin? Had to practically drag him back into the van after we hit that bloke."

Ben lets out a small groan, presses the heel of his palm into his closed eye where a migraine is starting to form, "This ain't about Martin."

Tubbs sighs, "I know, I know. Sorry. Just thought you'd be dealing with the whole murder thing better now, it ain't like you ain't done it before."

Ben swallows, throat feeling like razor blades despite the tea, "That ain't the point, though. I was a kid. I knew what I was doing here. I ain't a kid anymore."

"Yeah, none of us are," Tubbs says, eyes fixed on Ben. He looks so... worn out, like he's aged five years since he last saw him. Tubbs knows there's still an unspoken air between them. Ben had made it clear he was out of the game, but things have clearly changed. Reaching out hesitantly, Tubbs places a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Ben, you ain't some kind of monster, you know? I proper messed up that bloke I hit the other week. I ain't even sure if he's alive or not."

"Yeah, but that was an accident," Ben grits his teeth, annoyed by Tubbs's attempts at reasoning. It's a little harsh, but he's torn up about this. It's been eating him up for days now. Sighing, he turns his head to look at him. "I just... I knew what I was doing. It ain't the same. Beating up blokes, ripping off old biddies, ain't exactly planned murder is it?"

Tubbs's brow furrows. He sighs, fingers squeezing Ben's shoulder. He wonders for a moment if he should leave. He can't get through to Ben, and Tubbs isn't exactly the most patient man in the world, but it's... it's Ben. 

The same Ben he had to protect from other lads his first few weeks in prison. The same Ben who told him he'd killed a woman and how he didn't even know how he felt about it. The same Ben who had his glasses knocked off his face and then when he'd tried to fight back, Tubbs had had to come in and throw his weight around to help him out. The same Ben who he'd spent months and months with, telling him about his past, how when he got out he'd just go back to it. The same Ben he'd kissed a few weeks before he was set to be released, who'd kissed him back and messed around with him in their cell when the lights went out.

Tubbs's hand moves, flat and pressed against Ben's back, rubbing circles over the fabric of his t-shirt. He swallows, eyes dragging across Ben's face, over his lips. He pushes that thought down as soon as he has it, speaks, "I can come back later, if you want? You look like you could do with a good kip."

Ben blinks at him, eyes heavy, desperate for sleep. He sounds so vulnerable when he speaks, not like the Ben that was throwing threats around on a bridge to Martin Fowler at Halloween, "You could stay for a bit. Get a few hours in? Ain't much different to sharing a cell, is it?"

Tubbs wants to ask, _"but what about Callum?"_ , but then he guesses Ben probably doesn't mean it like that. Probably just means as mates. Tubbs hates that he's even hopeful that Ben means it as more than that. It's pathetic, really. He nods, a small smile on his lips, "Alright, but we're getting breakfast at the cafe later, and you're paying."

Ben chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, sure thing."

\- - -

Tubbs would say he's never woken up to the sound of a baby cry-screaming at the top of its lungs, but he used to live above a couple of new parents who also happened to be junkies. Luckily that only lasted two weeks before the social took the kid off them.

This baby, however, is Louise Mitchell's, and Louise is currently standing at Ben's door, asking him when he's gonna bother getting up. 

Ben grumbles something from where he's on his bed, and Tubbs rolling over on the floor, facing away from the door, must alert Louise, who clearly hadn't realised he was there.

"Oh, sorry," she says, directed at Ben, voice dripping in judgement. "Didn't realise you had company... again."

Even in his half awake state, Tubbs realises the implication of her words. _Company again?_ Was Ben playing away from the copper?

The crying becomes distant as Louise walks out, and Tubbs can hear Ben groan from besides him. 

"Ignore her," Ben dismisses, getting up from his bed, bones aching with every movement. Grabbing his phone from under his pillow, he frowns. "God's sake, it's almost eleven. Should have set an alarm."

There's a short moment of silence, Tubbs's cheek pressed to Ben's scratchy carpeted floor, and then he feels a pillow hitting his back and he opens his eyes.

"You owe me breakfast," Ben says, a surprisingly chipper mood compared to the night... or rather, early morning before. 

"Nah, I seem to remember you offering that," Tubbs responds, flipping over to face Ben, who's currently putting his shirt on, bare skin exposed. Tubbs glances away, then wonders if that's more weird. Ben doesn't seem to notice.

"You can grab a shower if you want," Ben says. "Borrow some of my clothes if you want. I better go sort out whatever Louise wanted."

\- - - 

Tubbs is more than put off by the all-in-one bodywash/shampoo/conditioner that Ben has, and it's bound to cause havoc on his hair, so he opts to just use whatever floral scented stuff he assumes belongs to Louise that he finds in the bathroom and just does the main basics.

It ain't like he was up all night drinking like Ben was. Poor bloke could probably use the shower more than he does.

Most of Ben's clothes don't fit him, all too short and tight around the arms, but he's got this baggy old The Sound Of Music tour shirt that Tubbs admittedly throws his eyebrows up at first, but pulls over his head anyway. The rest of his own clothes from yesterday should do alright.

Ben passes him on the stairs on his way down, eyes widening a little when he notices the shirt, and Tubbs can tell he's flustered, embarrassed, "That was a present from my mum."

Tubbs can tell he's lying. He cracks a smirk, "Yeah, alright."

"I'm gonna have a shower," Ben says, pointing behind him up the staircase. "Louise and my dad are in the kitchen. You can wait in the living room or out the front if you want. I won't be long."

Tubbs nods, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he watches Ben ascend the stairs, half jogging. At least he seems in a better mood today. 

He considers doing as Ben said, but then he hears his name being said by Phil in a questioning tone, and well, he has to find out exactly what it's about.

"Tubbs?" Phil reiterates, stirring a cup of tea. He turns to Louise, who's sat at the kitchen table drinking orange juice. "But he ain't..."

Louise, although looking exhausted, manages to muster up a laugh, "What? Gay?"

There's a pause as Tubbs listens in by the doorway, eyes rolling at the conversation.

"Yeah," Phil says it like it's obvious. "He's such a bloke."

Tubbs genuinely almost laughs.

"Well, Ben ain't exactly RuPaul either, is he?" Louise retorts, still confused by her dad's low-key bigotry.

"Bit hypocritical, though. Doing... that with another bloke after helping me deal with Sharon," Phil takes a sip of his tea.

Tubbs leans closer to the door, ears perking up at the mention of Callum.

"God, are you really that dense?" Louise frowns. "Dad, they split up before Christmas."

A flood of something surges through Tubbs. Hope, maybe? No. Happiness? Bit harsh, but true. He can't really help it.

Tubbs tries to listen in some more, but then Peggy starts to cry from the living room, and Tubbs makes a quick dash away from the door, towards the stairs, where he sits, pretending to look at his phone.

Louise doesn't notice him, nor does Phil as they make their way into the living room.

Ben is downstairs shortly after that, smelling of the awful bodywash Tubbs had refused to use, dressed in fresh clothes and looking chipper. 

Tubbs wonders if Ben was more drunk than he was letting on the night before. Maybe he forgot everything they talked about.

"Alright," Tubbs says, grabbing Ben's coat for him off the rack. It's weirdly affectionate of him, as he hands it to Ben, watching him shrug it onto his back. "You owe me a fry-up."

\- - -

Kathy looks surprised to see Tubbs, but she doesn't say anything. In fact, she barely even acknowledges Ben, whose smile fades when he sees her. Instead, they're served by the other worker, and they make their way over to the table near the window, the hidden away one. 

"What was that about?" Tubbs inquires, taking a seat.

"Nothing," Ben dismisses. Tubbs can tell he's lying again. He meets Tubbs's eye, can tell he doesn't believe him. Sighing, Ben leans forward in the booth. "I moved out of my brother's the other day. He's letting Sharon stay there. They used to be mates, I guess."

Tubbs leans back, shakes his head, "Mate, your family is a state."

"Yeah, well, I've chosen my side," Ben says, suddenly sharper, more aggressive. He leans back, tilts his head in that way of his that kind of gets Tubbs's adrenaline going. It reminds him of the few times they've done dodgier deals that involved them running from the coppers. "Family is where my loyalties lie."

Tubbs doesn't mean to bring up Callum, but he does, "Your boyfriend part of that?"

It hits a nerve, but not in a way that makes Ben angry. Instead, Ben inhales sharply, nods before speaking, "Yeah... that ain't a thing anymore."

Tubbs looks up from the menu on the table, something sparking in his eye as he meets Ben's gaze. Tilting his head, Tubbs speaks, "You figure dating a copper ain't exactly in your best interests?"

Ben swallows, "Yeah, summat like that."

\- - -

Ben walks with Tubbs to the train station after breakfast, though he doesn't really need to. A few on patrol coppers give them the side-eye, particularly Tubbs, who just smiles in a passive aggressive way towards them. Ben tenses up a little, thoughts of Keanu and a gunshot in his mind.

"You busy later?" Ben asks, grabbing Tubbs's arm just before they get to the doors of the station. 

Tubbs, taken aback slightly, blinks down at the shorter man, "Why? You got summat planned?"

Ben's lips curl up into a smile, a smirk almost. He squeezes Tubbs's arm. "8 o'clock, The Prince Albert. I fancy a night out."

Tubbs suspects Ben's had plenty of nights out recently.

He exhales, nods, "Yeah, alright. I could do with one myself."

\- - -

"Lesbian Night, I mean, are you taking the mick?" Ben exclaims, trailing out of The Prince Albert with Tubbs at his side, hands dug into their pockets, shoulders hunched, looking like a knockoff version of the Kray twins.

"Could have been alright," Tubbs says, still buzzing from the cocktails they'd had. He usually only drinks beer. "Tegan and Sara ain't too bad."

"Yeah, alright," Ben chuckles. He can feel how cold the air is as it hits his face, which means he isn't even tipsy yet. He doesn't like that. "Better than listening to you play George Michael all the time."

Ben never used to like George Michael. Brought back too many bad memories. Heather and the sort. Tubbs has made him more tolerable.

Sighing, Ben stops in his tracks, leans against the memorial wall on the street. He cups his hands, blows into them, trying to keep warm, "I just wanted to get off with someone, to be honest."

Tubbs stops with him, shoulder leaning against the memorial. He scoffs, looks down at Ben, "Why invite me out, then? It ain't like you need me to gas you up."

"Thought you could do with the same," Ben shrugs. He turns, back against the memorial, hands in his coat pockets. "Can't remember the last time you told me about a bloke."

Tubbs pauses, narrows his eyes at Ben, trying to figure out his game here. He straightens his shoulders, "Yeah, well, that's 'cause I don't date. Don't have time for it in my line of work."

"Dating someone and sleeping with someone ain't the same," Ben raises his brows, turns his head towards Tubbs, lips parted as he looks him over. "Not like we were dating when we were inside, were we?"

Tubbs's face flushes hot. He swallows, eyes dragging to Ben's mouth. Exhaling, Tubbs shifts on his feet, "Yeah, well... we were kids. Don't even look the same now."

"Yeah, you're fit and I'm not a speccy git anymore," Ben chuckles, looking away as he pushes himself off the wall. "Come on, I need a drink."

Tubbs tries not to dwell on the compliment. Ben's probably just teasing anyway.

\- - -

They're not drunk, far from it.

They only have a couple at E20 before Ben is loudly complaining about how straight the place is, much to the annoyance of those around him. He's not drunk, but he's acting out, something Tubbs doesn't see him do very often. He's normally only like this when he's pissed up.

Tubbs suggests they go to the Vic instead, and Ben scoffs, tells him that it's even worse because not only is it straighter, but it's also older. He doesn't need to watch Kat Slater snog Kush Kazemi all night.

"Come back to mine," Ben says, grabbing Tubbs's arm. "Dad's probably spark out in front of the telly by now, and Louise and Peggy are at her mum's."

"Ain't you got a brother?" Tubbs asks as he's pulled along the street.

"Yeah," Ben says, not correcting it to stepbrother. Denny's chosen his family. "He's at a mate's."

Tubbs vaguely recalls Ben telling him that Phil's an alcoholic. He frowns, "Do you even have booze at yours?"

Ben sighs, stopping in the middle of the square. He turns to Tubbs, fingers clasping onto the lapels of his leather jacket. Looking up at him, he smiles, "I got some stashed away. Come on."

Tubbs finds himself, yet again, drawn into Ben's gaze. It's irritating really. He knows Ben probably doesn't actually care about him, just wants a drinking buddy and someone to drown his sorrows with. 

Regardless, he follows along, goes back to his house, willing. It ain't like he also doesn't need companionship, someone to drink with. His flat can drive him mad sometimes. Just dogs barking and people arguing. He hates being there alone.

\- - - 

Ben is on his back, stretched out on his bed, phone held at an arms length above his head, scrolling through whatever shady gay dating app he'd downloaded that week.

Tubbs is sat up, Ben's legs sprawled over his lap, drinking gin out of a Peppa Pig mug that he's pretty sure belongs to Lexi. Some terrible Abba cover is playing from Ben's laptop, and Tubbs frowns as it switches to the next song, "Is this Mamma fucking Mia?"

Ben barks out a sharp laugh, "Yeah, why? You went to see Last Christmas, didn't ya? Same concept."

"Just 'cause I like George Michael, don't mean I'm consuming every piece of media related to him," Tubbs retorts, shifting on Ben's bed. He realises suddenly that he's had his hand on Ben's calf for the past half an hour or so, but Ben doesn't seem to mind. "God, I can't stand that Amanda whats-her-face."

"Ain't that girl from Game of Thrones in that film, though? Emilia summat?" Ben's brow furrows as he looks away from his phone and at Tubbs.

"Not that film! I meant Mamma Mia!" Tubbs says, slapping Ben's leg, causing Ben to kick out, almost knocking the mug out of his hand. "Oi! Don't start kicking off!"

"I ain't kicking off, you smacked me!" Ben argues back, squirming out of Tubbs's grip. 

Tubbs gets a few small, painless jabs of his fingers into Ben's thigh and hip, chuckling as Ben sits up, still clasping his phone. His laughter fades a little as he watches Ben lean back against the wall, the two of them shoulder to shoulder. 

He watches as Ben swipes left on some of the most dodgy looking blokes, including ones that are probably old enough to be his dad. There's part of him that's concerned for Ben's wellbeing, but a much larger part of him that's just burning with jealousy. He has to admit it, because that's exactly what it is. Jealousy. It's why he was so quick to rat Ben out for dating a copper to all their shady mates.

Hey, it ain't like Tubbs is a good person.

"Thought we were having a drink," Tubbs says, bumping his shoulder against Ben's, drawing his attention away from his phone.

Ben's gaze drags across Tubbs's face, the grey of his eyes and the stubble on his jaw, the curve of his mouth. His tongue darts across his lips and Tubbs's breath catches in his chest.

Suddenly, fingers brush against his own, and Tubbs leans closer.

Ben pulls the mug from Tubbs's hand, presses it to his own lips and takes a large swig of gin before holding it back out to him, "There. I'm drinking with ya."

Leaning back, Tubbs sighs, taking the mug out of Ben's fingers. He frowns as he leans across the side of the bed, placing the mug down on Ben's bedside table, "God, you're a dickhead. Maybe I should get on that app, just to warn blokes off you."

Ben hums, amused as he shimmies his shoulders down, sinking a little into the bed, "Oh, you gonna chase the competition away? Jealous of 'em, are ya?"

It's an offhanded joke. It has to be. Tubbs looks over at him, his own posture slightly lower. He can see Ben looking at him from the corner of his eye. He should just leave it at that, should just take it as a joke, but then Ben is turning his head to him, and he's lowered his phone, properly paying attention now.

Tubbs inhales sharply. He can smell the terrible bodywash from that morning on Ben's skin, can feel the warmth of his bicep against his own, shoulder to shoulder. Tubbs's gaze drags to Ben's lips, then to his eyes, then down to his lips again. He scoffs, tries to pretend he isn't burning hot, "Don't flatter yourself, you ain't that special, mate. I could get ten times as many blokes as you could on that stupid app."

Tubbs can almost feel Ben's smirk against his lips, the space between them much smaller than before. He can also feel the heat of Ben's palm, pressed against his stomach, fingers close to the hem of his t-shirt.

"Not in my stupid Sound of Music shirt, you couldn't," Ben says, voice low, sending a flood of blood through Tubbs, his thumb hooking under the hem of said stupid shirt. Tubbs hadn't even realised he was still wearing it. He guessed he liked the smell of Ben's bodywash after all. "Should probably take it off if you want a chance."

Tubbs doesn't know what to say anymore, doesn't have a comeback, but it's not as if he could get one in anyway, not when Ben's lips press against his own.

It's a short lived kiss at first, so much so that Tubbs wonders if it actually happened. It's only when he's meeting Ben's eye again that he realises, sees the heat in him, the adrenaline he'd seen back when they'd snog in alleyways after running from the coppers.

Tubbs wastes no time after that, broad hands gripping Ben's waist, pulling him in, onto his lap, mouths crushing together.

Ben rips the stupid shirt off Tubbs's back, hips rocking down into his lap, and Tubbs groans into the kiss.

Their hands map everywhere, messy, desperate. 

Ben pulls away from the kiss, lips pressed to Tubbs's ear, smirks, "Knew you were jealous."

Tubbs shoves a hand between them, eliciting a grunt from Ben, one that has his eyes rolling back. It's a sight Tubbs hasn't seen in a few years. He exhales, "Shut up, Ben."

\- - -

Tubbs doesn't expect to be woken up by another member of the Mitchell family for the second day in a row. At least, not anyone who isn't Ben, but Ben is currently nowhere to be seen and Tubbs is in Ben's bed, stark naked, duvet thankfully covering his lower half as Phil stands in the doorway with a cup of tea in hand.

Ben, absolutely mortified, appears behind his dad, glasses on and in his dressing gown, panicking, "Uh... thanks for the tea, dad."

He grabs the mug of tea from Phil's hand, burning himself slightly in the progress, but he doesn't care. He just wants Phil out of there quickly.

Phil blinks at Tubbs, who still seems half asleep, before quickly excusing himself.

Ben, horrified, shuts the door behind him and turns to Tubbs, eyes wide, "I'm regretting moving back in here, if I'm being honest."

Tubbs yawns, presses the palms of his hands to his closed eyes, stars behind his eyelids. He blinks, adjusting to the light, "There's way more people at your old place. Why don't your sister and old man know how to knock?"

Ben walks over to the bed, sits down on the end of it, watches as Tubbs stretches out. He's so... different. So toned. Not exactly a six pack, but not the Tubbs he used to know during their prison days. Ben swallows subconsciously.

"Wanting round two already?" Tubbs jokes, catching the way Ben's staring. It's different to how he was the one staring yesterday, the one wanting to go further. He had no idea Ben had wanted it too.

"We had that last night, didn't we?" Ben says, raising his brows as he brings the cup of tea to his lips. 

Leaning forward, Tubbs takes the cup from Ben's hand and takes a sip for himself. It's not gin in a Peppa Pig mug this time, but it'll do.

Ben rolls his eyes, "Petty."

Tubbs swallows the tea, hands the mug back to Ben, tilts his head as he looks at him. He looks different but the same with glasses on, reminds him of the Ben he used to know. The one who was somehow less messed up than now, even though he'd just killed a woman.

"You got stuff to do today?" Ben asks, finally getting a drink of his tea. 

"Yeah," Tubbs admits, exhaling. "Got a few collections. You could come with if you want. Might be fun."

Ben presses his lips tight together, considers it for a moment, "Nah. Don't really think that's a good idea. Things are still..."

"Messed up?" Tubbs asks, expression soft but sad.

"Yeah," Ben says.

Tubbs presses a hand to Ben's shoulder, squeezes.

\- - -

They meet up a few days later, go for a drink at the Vic.

They kiss in the alleyway, after Whitney sees them together and gives Ben a dirty look.

Tubbs has no idea what they are. 

Ben is still messed up, still shows up drunk sometimes. Sometimes they don't see each other for days.

Tubbs wants to say something, but he's busy himself. He's got his deals, his collections to make.

Ben doesn't mean to be cruel, but he brings something up, a few weeks later.

Tubbs has just spent the last twenty minutes on his knees, Ben's fingers in his hair, the two of them in a locked toilet stall at the Prince Albert. Not exactly romantic, but not something Tubbs exactly does often, not like Ben probably has.

Ben gets a text when they're stood outside, and his eyes light up when he reads it. His face is a mixture of emotions that Tubbs can't read at first, but it clicks after a moment, and Tubbs's stomach drops.

"It's Callum, ain't it?" Tubbs asks. He tries to sound casual, like it doesn't matter to him. Ain't exactly like he and Ben are dating, is it?

"Yeah," Ben says it so straightforwardly. It stings. "Lola just said she's seen him back on the square."

"Alright," Tubbs shrugs, pushing the uneasy feeling in his gut down. He clasps a hand over Ben's shoulder, squeezes it, looks him in the eye with a forced smile. "Sure he'll come around to you again. Seems like a nice bloke."

\- - -

Ben and Callum aren't dating. In fact, Callum is seeing a bloke called Simon.

Tubbs should be happy, but he can see how much Ben still cares about him.

Ben is dealing with the whole Keanu thing better now, at least, as far as Tubbs can tell. He's just so... torn up over Callum, still so conflicted. Still pining.

Tubbs tells Ben he's going away for a while, got a dodgy job up in Manchester. 

Ben seems interested at first, like he cares, but then he sees Callum again and Tubbs can just tell. He knows.

The day before he's set to leave, Tubbs kisses Ben, open and in view of the square. Ben is taken aback, blinking up at him. They get a few whoops from Tina, a confused look from Ian, and a smile and nod from Ash and Iqra. It should be romantic, like in a film, but then Callum walks by with Simon and Ben's demeanor changes. Tubbs knows that he's lost.

The day that Tubbs leaves for Manchester, he gives Ben one last quick kiss, this one on the cheek, and Ben actually asks him what he's doing. He'll see him again, and it ain't like they're dating.

"You don't date in your line of work, do ya?" Ben reminds him, seemingly taking it more as a joke than Tubbs does.

Tubbs forces a laugh, "Yeah, suppose so."

He's heading into the train station, bag packed, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and of course he sees them.

Simon and Callum, heading in from a day shopping.

It's an awkward interaction, and Callum luckily gets a phone call, but then Tubbs is left with this Simon bloke, and all he can think of is how much Ben seemed to hate the guy, how hurt he was whenever he saw him.

He's a nice bloke, way too nice. Tubbs hasn't got anything against him.

"You should be careful, mate," Tubbs tells him, stepping close. "Callum ain't what you think he is."

Simon looks confused. He should be. Tubbs is speaking out of his arse.

"My advice?" Tubbs says, looking over at Callum before looking back to Simon. "Get rid of him sooner rather than later. He'll only mess you about."

Callum returns from his phone call, and Simon looks noticeably uneasier as Tubbs smiles and bids them goodbye.

Stepping onto the train platform, he knows what he did was messed up, but Ben deserves to be with Callum.

After all, Tubbs doesn't date. He said it himself.

He'd be lying, though, if he didn't have the urge to run out of the station, to go tell Ben that he cares about him, that he wants them to be something more.

But clearly, Ben don't want that. And it's for the best.

Even if it means Tubbs cries for the first time he can remember in years. Not even in prison did he cry. Not since he was a kid.

He doesn't delete Ben's number. That'd be ridiculous. He's still got to get in contact, be his mate.

He just gets on the train, goes to Manchester.

After all, there's no use falling for someone in his line of work, least of all Ben Mitchell.

**Author's Note:**

> this was tonally all over the place, i'm sorry. i'm sorry the ending is sad as well, i wanted to fit it in with upcoming plots/spoilers and make it semi canon compliant.
> 
> maybe peppa pig mugs filled with gin and mamma mia will be their always.
> 
> bentubbs rights. xoxo


End file.
